Vacant Eyes Poem by Bree Z Love

I seen her vacant eyes.
Before, we called it blues.
Now, it appears outfitted in sublime cues.
Wearing cloudy plum swirls.
Sporting shady hues, my little girl.
Searching for a warm touch.
But a mother's sweet touch is asking too much.

Glistening reflections from the headlights.
She stands posed, on the side of the road,
Slightly, high and smiling as she receives the vibrations, slow.
Concentrating on how old the concrete is...under her toes.
Now, searching my eyes, she tries to distract my assumptions
And fixing words.
I do notice but she crosses over to forbid my gaze and
want; to caress those tired legs.
And help with those tattered bags.

Though it seems so strange.
A stranger with no permission to occupy such space.
But my own reflection in the headlights changed.
I was the little girl that sat at the window pane.
Wishing for a sweet homestead; a forever place.
No need to hide the pain.
Blue Skies, Fade
Those Eyes Fade.